


if you want me to want to (then i want to, too)

by lithelle



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Ann for best Wingman, M/M, all the Phantom Thieves for best Wingmen actually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-05 13:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13389282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithelle/pseuds/lithelle
Summary: "Ann, I think I'm in love with Yusuke."She looks up at him, eyes glinting wide and curious beneath the dim lamps overhead, but the first thing out of her mouth isn’t at all what he expects."Why is everyone coming to me about love advice lately!?"--or: between romance and a roomba





	1. Akira and Ann

"Ann, I think I'm in love with Yusuke."

Akira blurts it out without really thinking, after he’s finished drying all the dishes but before Ann works up the energy to stop flipping through her phone and head home.

She looks up at him, eyes glinting wide and curious beneath the dim lamps overhead, but the first thing out of her mouth isn’t at all what he expects.

"Why is everyone coming to me about love advice lately!?"

He has to admit it makes sense, if he thinks about it. He's never explained the whole Arcana thing to them -- in fact, there are a lot of things he's never explained to his party that they've just sort of accepted at his word. Ryuji is the Chariot, driving them forward. Haru is the Empress, radiating warmth and rock-steady strength.

Yusuke, the Emperor, is his pillar to lean on and apparently, incidentally, embarrassingly also has full reign over his heart.  And Ann, she’s the Lovers, brimming over with unconditional love for her teammates to help guide their choices. So it makes sense, except --

"Wait, who is _everyone?_ " Akira balks, dumbfounded. He definitely would have noticed some bizarre love-triangle going on amongst his team, wouldn’t he?

“Oh!” Ann perks up before leering into Akira's space with a positively predatory grin more befitting a bonafide panther than a bubbly teenage girl. "Oh, just Yusuke, actually."

" _What?_ ” This too is not what Akira expects, and he knows better than to encourage her, but the way she’s dangling the sweet, juicy details in front of him is just too tempting to pass up. Especially when he _desperately_ wants to know. For science. As their leader. And totally not because of the omission he’s just let slip.

After all, as fond as he is of their artistic friend, last he’d checked in their progress with Yusuke’s understanding of deep dark human desires the guy still didn’t know the difference between romance and a roomba.

So if Yusuke was coming to Ann for personal love advice, then that was something.

“What did he say?"

“Nuh-uh. Just because you like him doesn’t mean I have to play messenger and spill something a friend and teammate told me in confidence!” She chastises, although she can’t bring herself to actually tell Akira off for his prying.

“Come on, please? I’ll buy you a crepe from Santa Monica’s next time we go, my treat.” Akira bats his eyelashes over eyes as wide an innocent as a thieving teenage criminal can possibly muster.

Ann regards him cooly as the charm of his grin wavers. Eventually, she relents anyway.

“Oh, alright. But I get to add ice cream on top!” she chirps, and Akira breathes a sigh of relief.

“Deal.” He bites his lip, trying not to look too hopeful. “...Did he say anything about me?”

Ann taps a finger on her chin in thought, considering. “Well…”

( "Yusuke, are you -- are you sure this has nothing to do with...?" Ann twirled the tips of one of her pigtails nervously. Yusuke was her friend, and she loved him as a friend, but _definitely_ not like _that_ and he'd been asking an awful lot of serious and intense questions about romance and relationships for someone who never showed an interest in anything outside his canvas.

But to her surprise, Yusuke merely chuckled as if in on his own private joke. He did that a lot, actually. "Forgive me, Ann. It's true, you're very attractive. But no, I don't harbor any kind of 'romantic' intention towards you - of that at least, I am certain."

Ann shifted her weight between feet and bit her cheek. It was a total relief, yeah, but why did he have to put it in such an aggravating way? Still, Yusuke's direct straightforwardness was actually one of the most endearing things about him, once you got to know the guy.

"Does that mean there's someone you _do_ feel that way for?" she asked, hand on her hip. If he was going to keep asking her for advice, she needed a little more room to work!

“Truthfully... I am unsure,” came the lukewarm reply. Nuh-uh, that wouldn’t do.

“Is there someone you think you _might_ feel that way for?” she prods, leaning into Yusuke’s space with a suspicious glare.

A beat. Yusuke cast his gaze downward, opened his mouth to respond, then fastened it into a thin line.

"Oh my god. No way. There really is someone." She leaned back reverently, before bouncing on her heels in excitement as a wide grin spread across her face.

“I did not say --” Yusuke scoffed, adamantly trying to defend himself, but Ann didn’t buy it for a second.

"Who is it? Is it a girl? A guy? Do they go to Kosei?" Yusuke just stared at her, wide-eyed, clearly not expecting the twenty-questions directed back at him. Oh, how the turntables. She leaned back in thought, tapping a finger against her chin as an idea dawned on her. "...Do they go to Shujin?"

He diverted his gaze and coughed into his elbow, but the pink dusting his cheeks was unmistakable.

Bingo.)

Ann slouches in the bar chair with a sheepish smile, swinging her legs in front of her. "Not exactly."

With a sigh Akira slumps and hangs his head, twirling a lock of fringe between his fingers and doing his best to hide his disappointed expression behind the glare of this glasses. It shouldn’t be as big of a deal as it feels like, he’s made plenty of worthwhile friends since coming to Tokyo and he knows he has the support of all of them -- but he can’t help it. Yusuke is special, and he has to admit he’d kinda been hoping…

He probably looks pretty pitiful, because Ann immediately starts up again.

“B-but wait, hey! He didn’t say he _didn’t_ like you either, and how many students at Shujin does he actually know?”

That... Is actually a pretty good point.

Akira huffs and tilts his head to look Ann straight-on again with a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Ann.” He pauses and runs a hand through his tangle of of curls before sighing, suddenly unsure again as he slumps across the bar. “But what if he… He said he’d never liked anyone before, right? And if it’s someone from Shujin it could be literally anyone else on the team except _Futaba._ ”

Ann dips her head forward with a frown, brows knitting together as she weighs her options.

It was technically true, but she kind of doubted Yusuke would be interested in anyone else _besides_ Akira. She could call it a woman’s intuition, but really their Leader was just that incredible. She herself was spoken for, of course, but it was almost hard to imagine anyone _not_ falling for Akira’s dashing good looks and debonair charm -- let alone all those shy gestures and the genuine affection that shines in his eyes when he looks at the rest of the Thieves.

Besides, even if he hadn’t actually told her outright, Akira was the one Yusuke always seemed to look at the most, talk to the most, praise the most, seek out most. How could Akira not see the signs for himself?

As if voicing her thoughts for her, Akira adds a bit dejectedly: “What makes me so special?”

“You’re joking, right?”

Akira rolls his eyes and flashes a mockery of Joker’s Metaverse-ready grin at the praise. “That’s my codename, Panther.”

Ann laughs and swats at him as Akira draws his arms up in mock defense, but she’s quick to jump back to the topic at hand.

"Akira, you know we all love you, right?”

He nods, the ghost of a smile starting to form at the corners of his lips. Leave it to Ann to cheer him up. “You guys, too.”

“But if anyone _loves_ you loves you, it's _definitely_ Yusuke. You should see the way he watches you when you're not looking, like he’s mesmerized." Her smile, too, is bright and fond, as if to punctuate exactly what she means about Yusuke. “Maybe he just doesn’t know it, yet.”

In classic Akira-fashion, he doesn’t say anything, but his mouth is pulled into the thin line of a poorly concealed smile and the tips of his ears are turning red.

Ann stands to stretch. “You know, Yusuke and I were planning to hang out here after school tomorrow.”

“Really?” Akira follows suit, blinking in honest surprise.

“Yup! I can try finding out for you.” she chirps, before pausing to look directly at Akira. “But you know, you should try talking to him yourself. About how you feel.”

“We’ll see.” Akira lets out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, suddenly realizing something else as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Hey-- you didn’t seem too surprised though. That I like him. What if he--”

“What, noticed, and hasn’t said anything?” Ann cuts him off with a skeptical look and cross of her arms. Akira can only gulp and nod.

“Akira, you know I’m all about this kind of stuff, and you’re my best friend -- other than Shiho, I mean,” she corrects quickly, before continuing on. “Of course _I_ noticed. But Yusuke? He’s cute, but the guy doesn’t know his way between romance and a roomba.”

Akira has to laugh at that. She’s not wrong, and it puts a kind of glimmer in the fluttering part of his heart reserved for “things concerning Yusuke” that weirdly, maybe not all hope is lost with this.

“Which is exactly why you two should talk.” Ann puts a reassuring hand on his arm and gives it a light squeeze. “I know you have Rafflesia tomorrow, but I’ll do my best to help him figure it out and keep him here until you get back! Confidant’s Promise!”

Even if her meddling is a little terrifying, Ann is way too good to them and they definitely didn’t deserve her. He nods, pulling a hand out of his pocket to sling his arm around her shoulders with a light squeeze. “Thanks, Ann. “

Operation: Further Investigate the Mystery Object of Yusuke’s affections is underway - Mission Start!

He just hopes the clues are leading to the answer he actually _wants_.


	2. Yusuke and Ann

The afternoon sun filters pleasantly through the windowpanes of Leblanc casting only the most aesthetic blend of angles and curves across the cafe’s booths and until just a moment ago, Yusuke _had_ been enjoying it.

"Soooo.... about the other day."

Yusuke grits his teeth and refuses to make eye contact, wishing hunched shoulders could double as physical shields against pointed social interaction. Or that he knew how to cast Tetrakarn in real life. He wonders briefly if Goemon can even learn it in the Metaverse; it would certainly be useful when a certain reckless shining star keeps pushing himself so hard and making Yusuke's heart ache.

"Ann, if you are only going to "cook" me about the state of my love life--"

"The term is "grill," Yusuke." Ann waves a flippant hand from where she sits opposite Yusuke in the booth. "And of course I am! You can't just leave me hanging after what you told me before! Your happiness depends on it!" The last bit is laughed with good humor, but she gives his arm a reassuring squeeze anyway.

"It's true that an unease has settled over my mind of late, but it's likely I am just still a novice when it comes to matters of the heart. I know I can be a bit dense about these things." Yusuke sighs, spinning his coffee cup idly. Nothing compares to Boss's coffee, but he finds himself wishing for a brew of Akira's design. There's something strangely comforting in that bitter taste, though perhaps he just doesn't understand coffee, either.

Perhaps Akira can help him understand both, in time.

Ann’s eyes are shining, attention rapt for him to continue, and Yusuke does. “I apologize. In our talks recently I believe I led you to think there is someone I currently harbor feelings of ‘romance’ for.”

He levels his gaze, hesitant, and Ann nods slowly. “However, I also stipulated that I’ve never… Even now, I’m still not sure…” he pauses, reconsiders, and shakes his head. Everything he’s learned but never experienced about love is jumbled up in his head. It’s like an unfamiliar set of oils is all out of order in his paint box and just as he begins to think he’ll never find the right color to express himself, Ann speaks up again.

“It’s okay to not be sure,” Ann urges. “You don’t need to know everything right away. Even if you’re not sure if you like them--”

“Oh, I definitely like him.” How could he not?

“That was fast,” Ann chuckles, sipping at her coffee. “So it’s a he? ...Wait.” She frowns into her cup. “A he that goes to Shujin, right?”

Yusuke thinks it might be safer not to answer. Not when he’s still orbiting just outside the gravity of her insinuation like the stars whirling across the vast expanse of the Ikebukuro Planetarium’s sky.

"Oh my god."

He swallows. "Hm?"

“This is great!”

“What is?” Yusuke’s brows knit together. Surely there was nothing good about being stranded in a space that makes his chest ache with a kind of longing he doesn’t have the words or the colors to describe. He catches her mischievous grin, and braces for impact.

"It’s Akira, isn’t it?”

...Oh no. Suddenly, he’s free falling to the Earth’s surface.

"I-- I didn't say anything about Akira,” Yusuke sputters, reeling as his words try to find him more solid ground. The worst part is, she’s not _exactly_ wrong. But that still doesn’t necessarily mean--

“You totally have a thing for Akira." Ann's eyes are wide with wonder, mouth parted in slight, giddy surprise, as if this is a revelation that will go down in history books as the greatest discovery of the 21st century. Yusuke disagrees.

"That's preposterous! I most certainly do not! Akira is just--"

Just what? What _is_ their Leader to him, Yusuke wonders. Akira is his best friend, sure. His guiding light in the dark, the stars in his sky, certainly. But what would it even _mean_ , anyway? To have a "thing" for Akira.

"Listen to yourself,” Ann chides, as if she can tell the kind of internal battle he’s engaged in. “How can you not realize it?”

"Realize what?” he retorts hotly, “Ann, if you're implying you think I'm continuing to lie to myself after everything -- " He'd thrown away the comforts of willful blindness when he'd awoken to Goemon, when he'd never felt more free. He would never return to that prison, not intentionally --

"No, no!" Ann's defensive voice slices through his reverie as she reaches for her cup of coffee. Yusuke's own is long cold after sitting so long in quiet, _solitary_ contemplation, but Boss had set a piping hot and fresh cup in front of Ann just a few minutes ago when she'd joined him. She raises it to her lips and puffs at it to cool it down.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just, well..." She taps a finger against her mug as she thinks, and Yusuke wonders if this had been one of the anime Futaba was so fond of if he would have seen the light bulb pop to life above Ann's head as an idea lit her eyes. "Yusuke, what do you think of me?"

"Pardon?"

"Come on, we're friends right? I wanna know what you think of me!" She takes a cheerful sip from her cup as if she hadn't just asked a very strange and altogether unnecessary, unrelated question.

Brows furrowed, Yusuke scoffs, unsure what this has to do with the ludicrous predicament Ann seems to be claiming he's in. Which he's not, by the way, so this conversation is absolutely excessive in itself -- but then he catches sight of the bright grin radiating off her face and his frown softens into a quiet smile of his own. Ann sometimes has a roundabout way of making her point, yes, but she truly cares about all the Phantom Thieves and always _always_ found a way to help them if they came to her. She was truly respectable, and Yusuke would humor her this time in light of that.

"You're right, we are friends." He glances down, sketching at words in his mind, trying to paint an accurate portrait of the girl currently granting him her company. “It was your radiant beauty that struck me first, of course, that’s why I wanted to paint you -- but beyond that your indelible kindness. You worried for me, a complete stranger at the time, and I'm ever in your debt for that. You were... my first real friend, honestly."

Ann looks genuinely surprised, and if Yusuke's not mistaken her eyes look just the tiniest bit misty. "Yusuke..."

He's not sure what she was expecting; she asked, and she deserves his honesty more than anyone else (except perhaps Akira). Still, how open and present Ann is with her emotions is just another endearing detail about her, though he doesn't feel the need to touch on that just now.

"It's true. Although I understand now that the circumstances may have been..." he grimaces, grip on his mug tightening, "...less than appropriate, I got to know you before even Akira. And I’m glad for your continued companionship."

Ann's gaze sharpens again, a mischievous spark lighting her eyes. "Okay, well I'm flattered - but now that we're talking about Akira, what do you think of him?"

"Akira? He's--" Yusuke's breath hitches in his throat, "He’s incredible, Ann."

She leans back, nodding with a knowing smirk and motions to him. "Go on." Yusuke doesn't understand, but when it's about their leader he could easily speak for hours on end.

"He's radiant. I can't imagine my life, my future, any of it without him. He's helped me discover so much about myself, about my art and my passion... Ann, he's my guiding light." Briefly, he registers a dusty pink on Ann's cheeks, though he doesn't think he's said anything embarrassing. He hushes his voice as he continues anyway, though; while it's nothing he hasn't proclaimed of their leader before, and Ann did ask him, it's still well within open hours and he doesn't know that Boss is particularly interested in hearing honeyed words about his charge.

"He's incredibly multifaceted, yet always so compassionate. I wish I understood him more. He goes out of his way to help so many people, to help all of us, not just me. It warms my heart to see him act, and the rush of exhilaration I'm sure we all feel when we see him perform in the Metaverse is -- " Yusuke's rambling now, he's sure, as he often does -- but he doesn't know if he can stop. Not when it comes to Akira. Everything about him is divine to Yusuke, a gift from God to the world, and Yusuke feels lucky to bask in his glow.

"And when he smiles, I -- " something squirms in his heart, but he ignores it. It's just the admiration he feels, the desire to capture his muse on paper, nothing more. "I -- I feel such a rush of inspiration, but no matter how I put pencil to paper I can never capture its essence, how the sight of it _feels,_ and..." His fingers twitch, but he's not entirely sure if they're itching for a pencil or the sensation of something he's not yet fully registered. "When I see it, I want to..." he trails off, words slowing as the cogs clack in his mind.

"See?" Ann concludes for him, rather smugly.

What is he supposed to see?

"I... am afraid that I don't." How could she be construing his feelings for their leader any differently than how Yusuke felt about her? Perhaps he'd waxed a little extra poetically about Akira, but everything he's said is mere truth. Surely any one of the Phantom Thieves would at least understand how Yusuke felt, if they didn't feel exactly the same.  

Ann sighs in defeated exasperation and rests her cheek on one palm. Yusuke's not sure where he's gone wrong when she replies with irritation rimming the edges of her voice. "Okay, fine. Change of plans. We've established that we're friends, and I mean, obviously. That's all well and good. But I have one more question."

"Yes?"

"Do you want to kiss me?"

Yusuke blanches. "Goodness, no." What is she getting at, to pull _this_ of all things out of thin air? “I believe I indicated to you last time we spoke of this that I most certainly harbor no romantic inclinations towards you.”

Yusuke certainly finds her beautiful enough, has told her so himself, but that's merely an aesthetic fancy and he's never deigned it appropriate or worthwhile to spend time pondering through matters of the heart when that time could better be devoted to art. At least, he hadn't _wanted_ to explore and understand the mystery of such matters until Akira--

"Right, yeah, yeah. I thought as much. What about Akira?"

"What?"

Until Akira--

"Do you want to kiss him?"

"N--" Akira.

The stock answer dies in Yusuke’s throat as thoughts spring to life of Akira’s radiant smile blessedly turned towards him, Akira’s affectionate chuckle as he gently reminds him to slow down lest racing thoughts get the better of him. He thinks of that cheeky grin, equal parts glee and pride when their hands smack together for a baton pass in the Metaverse, and how that thought makes Yusuke’s heart swell.

"It's not that I--" He thinks of sitting in the planetarium, pinkies nearly touching on the armrests as they soak in the universe together, like it belongs only to them. He thinks of heat-soaked t-shirts, sweltering in Leblanc's attic as their knees knock together and the contented happiness of their closeness that drives his pencil in inspired arches across the paper of his sketchbook.

"But beyond that, he..." He thinks of the warmth of their late night conversations over coffee and curry, of drinking up all he can of just Akira’s presence as he memorizes his succinct and precise words, his endearing mannerisms, the light of that _smile_ \-- Akira's worth so much more to Yusuke than just the idea of a -- a _kiss_ , and yet the idea of pressing his lips to their Leader's --

\-- soft and warm and filled of every feeling overflowing from his heart, more than any painting's brushstrokes could convey --

Yusuke's throat is suddenly very, _very_ dry, and he downs the entirety of his as-yet untouched mug of cold coffee in one gulp. It should be a cold and bitter refreshment to call his senses back to order, but instead it burns the entire way down and does absolutely nothing to quell his racing heartbeat.

"My God," his hollow whisper echoes into his now equally hollow coffee mug. "I _DO_ have a "thing" for Akira."

"Toldja!" Ann's voice and cheeky grin combined are warm enough to melt every last ice spell swirling within Yusuke's heart, and the polar ice caps besides.

That is, if the heat of this new revelation flaming across his face and coiling around his heart doesn't melt them first.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading so far! this is my first attempt at a longer, multi-chapter fic, mainly because i love shukita with my entire heart and soul. let's see how it goes! the next few chapters of this are already written, they just need editing, so hopefully they'll be up soon.


	3. Yusuke and Akira

“The question now," Ann declares, "is what we’re gonna do about it.”

“Wedon’tneedtodoanythingaboutit,” The several-octaves-too-high-words slur together far too quickly, giving them far too much weight for a feeling that until about three minutes ago, Yusuke insisted vehemently he didn’t feel. He clears his throat and stares very hard at a coffee ring stained in the corner of the table. 

“Well if you ask me--”

Both teens jolt upright at the intrusion of a gruff voice and the two mouth-watering, fresh-from-the-stove plates of curry the Boss plops unceremoniously on the table.

Initially Yusuke panics, hand already moving towards his wallet -- he can buy a plate of curry but he’ll be walking extra stops for the rest of the week -- but Sojiro just raises a tired hand.

“It’s on me. Listen, you kids weren’t great at keeping secrets to begin with, but I’ve learned a thing or two about eavesdropping in my time running this cafe.” 

Ann grimaces and darts her eyes from Sojiro to Yusuke, whose face is beginning to rival the color of the bell peppers in Haru’s garden. 

Sojiro strokes his goatee with a blithe chuckle. “Relax, you don’t have to worry about me saying anything. Still… the kid, huh?” He glances heavenward before sighing and leveling Yusuke with a knowing look. Though it’s not unkind, it takes all of Yusuke’s years under Madarame and training in Mementos not to wither into his seat under that gaze. “He certainly talks about you enough. Maybe you two should talk to each other.”

“What do you mean--”

_ Ding-ding! _

Several things happen before the words can fully form in Yusuke’s mouth: Ann all but squeals with glee, the tell-tale bell of LeBlanc’s front door rings through the cafe, Morgana yowls a hello as he hops off Akira’s shoulder, and Akira himself strolls through the doorway where his eyes immediately catch on Yusuke. 

Yusuke wonders if it’s possible to just evaporate like yesterday’s paint water, but settles for hiding his expression with a hand over his mouth and an averted gaze. 

“Speak of the devil,” Sojiro mutters. “I’ve got dishes to wash.” Yusuke wants to stop him and ask what on earth he meant, but Sojiro is already turning away with a finger jabbed menacingly in Akira’s direction. “And so do you, kid, but say hi to your friends first.”

Akira smirks. Ann is already waving him over. Yusuke feels like he’s crash-landed in the ocean and all he can do is tread water.

“I’ll try not to keep them waiting too long, Boss.”

“Your friends or the dishes?” Sojiro barks back, but there’s that familial affection laced in both their voices that makes something fond blossom in Yusuke’s heart. By the time Akira slides in next to Ann, he’s recomposed himself enough to at least not act any more eccentric than usual. He hopes, anyway, with the object of the affections he just now discovered he  _ had _ now sitting less than a foot away from him.

“We were just talking about you!” Ann chirps, smiling far to widely to be natural. Acting isn’t Ann’s strong suit but at the moment that’s the  _ last thing _ Yusuke is worried about.

He’s far more preoccupied watching the way Akira’s mouth moves as he speaks.

“You were?” Akira sounds genuinely surprised as he looks between them.

“Yup!” Ann nudges him, but Yusuke only nods blankly.

Akira fiddles with a lock of his hair; Yusuke’s noticed it’s something he does mostly under two very specific circumstances. Either he’s nervous, or he’s been caught in the act of something with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. 

Yusuke furrows his brow and looks pensively down at his curry before taking a bite. He’s not really sure how this situation can qualify as either of those two things. 

“What about me?”

Even though the question wasn’t directed at either of them in particular, when Yusuke raises his head again Akira is smiling at him. Warmly. It’s blinding.

Yusuke almost chokes.

“Oh, you know!” Ann supplies. Yusuke is sure Akira doesn’t know. He wasn’t here, that’s why he asked, but Yusuke is too preoccupied trying not to asphyxiate on a chopped carrot while the water rises around his ears to deflect the situation himself. They’re completely at Ann’s mercy.

He hopes she’s feeling merciful tonight.

“Yusuke was just telling me how he felt about you, Akira!”

Not so much, then. Why is she doing this to him? 

Yusuke’s sure this booth will be his grave, although strangely, Akira seems to have lost his breath as well. In fact, his eyes snap to Yusuke’s so fast he fears the other might get whiplash. 

“Oh yeah? What, uh… what did you say?” He’s never in all their time together heard their Leader stutter, and the question hangs in the air thicker than the curry sauce cooling on his plate.

The way Akira blinks up at him from behind his fringe and glasses is too much. If Yusuke had seen his expression captured in a painting, he might have thought it was almost hopeful. As is, Yusuke wonders if it’s his own hopes that he’s setting up for ruin. (And what is it, exactly, he’s hoping for?)

Fire is crawling up the back of his neck and he can’t bare to look at Akira any longer. He settles on staring at his plate as he mutters hotly, “You know quite well how I feel about you, Leader.”

And to his credit, he’s never found the merit of shyness when complimenting someone who deserves it. Perhaps a habit left over from his time at the atelier, where he craved someone to do the same for him. 

Though it’s perhaps also no longer a whole-truth, and he feels Goemon’s judgment roiling inside him. 

Akira chuckles and Yusuke is relieved he at least hasn’t said anything wrong.

Unfortunately Ann’s not letting either of them off that easy, pouting as she glances between them. “Well your turn, Akira! What do you think of Yusuke?”

Yusuke snaps straight in his seat, equal parts terrified and genuinely curious. Their Leader probably knows him better than he knows himself, but he’s never thought to ask what Akira’s personal opinion of him actually is. His nerves tingle in anticipation.

Akira grits his teeth and looks at her incredulously, hissing something Yusuke doesn’t quite catch before turning to him with that same wide-eyed stare.

Though perfectly capturing Akira’s image on paper is a task that still eludes him, Yusuke has all but memorized their Leader’s exact features, at this point. For art. And definitely no other reason. But reasoning aside, currently he notices two key differences in the Phantom Thief’s normally unflappable composure.

One: even beneath the glasses, his pupils are dilated. Two: a deep swash of pink is glowing across his cheeks, reaching even the tips of his ears.

Yusuke knows he isn’t stellar at reading people on a good day. So what on earth is  _ that _ supposed to mean?

“You--” Akira starts.

“Yes?” Yusuke asks, much too quickly.

“You want a coffee refill?” Akira bounds to his feet, deftly scooping both their coffee cups up with him as he turns away. His ears are still pink. Yusuke is incredibly confused.

Akira throws on an apron and for a moment, the only sounds in the cafe are the coffee grinder he tends to and the splash of water running over dishes. 

Sojiro snaps the water faucet off and dries his hands on a towel before sauntering to the door. “I’m going to visit Futaba. Make sure to lock up after your friends leave.” He holds the door open, looking at Morgana expectantly. “Come on, cat.”

“What? But I wanna stay with Lady Ann! And I’m not a cat. tell him!” Morgana whines, hopping up onto the table to paw at Ann’s shoulder insistently.

“What’s he saying? And tell him to get off the damn table!”

Ann laughs and scoots Morgana back onto the floor. “He says he’d lo~ve to see Futaba-chan!”

“No I don’t!”

“Especially if you feed him a can of Tuna while you’re there,” Akira chides as steam billows from the three cups of coffee in front of him.

“Tuna, huh?” he muses, hand on his hip and smirk in his eyes. “I think we have a can somewhere.”

“Tuna!?”  Morgana bounds off the table and out the door with a yelp. “Lead the way, Boss!”

The three laugh and crowd around the counter with Akira as Sojiro waves them off, and they fall into comfortable conversation as Ann sips contentedly at her coffee. 

Neither of them have their attention on Ann, though. 

Because for some reason, every time Yusuke glances up Akira is  _ looking _ at him, but when caught he immediately looks away, ears as pink as ever. Perhaps they’d always been like that to begin with? If that’s the case Yusuke has never noticed and he’ll need to both be more vigilant in observing his muse as well add a few more colored pencils to the range he usually uses for--

“How’s the coffee?”

Yusuke blinks, and they’re both looking at him expectantly. 

“...The aroma is lovely.” He closes his eyes as the warm scent washes over him, engulfing him in a sense of serenity he only finds at Leblanc, only with Akira. He takes another sip. “I can tell you put your heart and soul into it, Akira.”

Akira clears his throat and when Yusuke opens his eyes to look he’s playing with his fringe again nervously, but the subtle upturn at one corner of his mouth warms Yusuke’s heart more than any cup of coffee ever could. He’ll take that as a victory, for the night. 

Ann, on the other hand, is looking far too smug for her own good as she balances her chin atop tented fingers. Yusuke’s not sure what exactly she’s trying to get to happen between the two of them, but he decides she’s been having too much fun since she got here and whatever it is must be disallowed immediately. 

“Soooo….” she croons, and Yusuke tenses instinctively. “How about putting some of that  _ heart _ into my question from earlier, Akira?”

Question from earlier?

Akira glances nervously at Yusuke, then back to Ann.

Oh.  _ That _ question from earlier. 

“Why do you want to know?” Akira shrugs a shoulder, nonchalant as ever, but there’s an uncharacteristic quiver in his voice.

“Because I’m curious!” She goads.

Yusuke can’t abide this anymore. “I must admit, Leader, I am also curious of your inner thoughts pertaining to me, but if you are--”

They’re all startled as Ann’s phone buzzes so violently it almost buzzes itself right off the counter, but she catches it easily as realization dawns on her face.

“Oh,  _ shoot _ , I promised I’d go do that thing with Ryuji tonight… I’d better go.” 

She quickly turns to gather her things, but Yusuke can’t stand to be grilled all day and not have a little taste of the fun himself. 

“Be sure to give him a kiss,” he teases. Or-- he thinks it’s teasing. It’s like what Ann’s been doing to them. Called out right in front of her friends, on an embarrassing subject -- that should do it, Yusuke thinks with a self-satisfied smirk as he crosses his arms across his lap.

Ann sticks out her tongue in disgust and Yusuke’s expression crumbles.

“Ugh, ew, no way, what makes you think -- Oh. Ohh, I get it!” She stops herself and brings a contemplative finger to her chin for a moment, studying Yusuke, before breaking into the brightest smile of the evening. “No, no, I save all those for Shiho!” 

With a wink she turns on her heel, and Yusuke is left at the bar stool feeling equal parts embarrassed, confused, and downright impressed. How does she do that?

To make matters worse, teasing Ann wasn’t fun at all, and now Akira is staring at him with his lips parted in surprise, which is the  _ last _ thing Yusuke needs to be thinking about right now--

There’s a beat where Akira’s mouth quirks up and then he’s erupting in pure, blissful laughter. He’s beautiful, glowing, and Yusuke can’t bring himself to look away. Rather, he wants to record this moment on canvas to look back on forever. He wonders if it’d be gouche to reach for his sketchbook--

“What was that about?” Akira’s still trying to stop laughing, smirking into the back of one hand as the other reaches for a cleaning rag.

“It seems I’m still a novice in matters of the heart.” Yusuke sighs into his cup. “I really thought Ann and Ryuji were…”

“Not that, the other thing.” 

Yusuke blinks. Why must people always say the other “thing” instead of specifying exactly what they --

“About them  _ kissing _ ?”

\-- oh.

Akira’s still grinning, eyes glittering with mirth, but he’s paused in wiping down the countertop with his sights locked on Yusuke like he’s hanging onto the answer for dear life. For once Yusuke thinks it might do to choose his words carefully.

“I… Ann’s also asked me more than her fair share of perplexing questions today. I simply tried to return the favor. Though it would seem I failed.”

Akira offers a commiseratory nod of his head and returns to cleaning only to stop himself again. “Ann’s just like that, she -- wait, she was asking  _ you _ about kissing?”

“...Yes, in fact.”

He remains silent, but motions for Yusuke to elaborate.

“She asked if I wanted to kiss her.”

Akira futilely attacks a stain on the countertop. He seems excessively tense for the topic at hand as he arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t look up. 

“...Do you?”

Yusuke shudders. “Heavens, no.” Absently, he continues to talk aloud as the conversation replays in his mind, trying to make sense of it all.

“But then she asked me if I want to kiss you.”

Akira freezes mid-wipe, and when Yusuke glances over to him he forgets how to breathe. 

Often, in Yusuke’s life, people would comment and disdain over the quirks in his turn-of-phrase and lack of filter when he spoke. He found their commentary equally boorish; it saved time and energy to simply be forthright. 

Now, however, he has never agreed more. He absolutely and undoubtedly needs a filter.

“You-- do--” Akira’s face is lit up red like a paper lantern, dazzling beneath the soft glow of Leblanc’s incandescent lamps. His licks his lips, struggling to find words as his eyes sparkle with something Yusuke is intimately acquainted with -- desire and hope. Though he can’t understand why, as his mind struggles to comprehend the intention behind Akira’s words. “ _ Do _ you want to?” 

“I -- ” Yusuke’s words are stilted, unsure and stumbling, like he can’t quite make sense of what he’s trying to say either as his mind swims. He drinks in the sight before him, feels his chest tighten like he’s drowning, but he doesn’t know  _ why _ . His face is warm. 

Is this love?

Yusuke doesn’t know, but he does know Akira is beautiful, that he’s gasping for the life Akira would surely breath into him if their lips met --

_ Does _ he want to?

It’s with a rapid pulse and impatient, tingling sensation in his fingers that Yusuke realizes, unequivocally:  _ Yes. _

The feeling isn’t unpleasant, but it is foreign. Something to be admired from a distance, ever wondering how it would feel to explore, to capture in his sketches. 

Art is familiar, safe, fully mapped territory. So he raises his fingers to frame his Leader within them, voice barely audible past his parched throat and pounding heart as he breathes, “You’re breathtaking, Akira.”     

He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen his leader so flustered. Why?

Akira drops the cloth and runs a hand over his face, stepping towards where Yusuke sits. 

“Yusuke, c’mon, knock it off.” There’s nothing but affection in Akira’s eyes, warmth in his voice, even as he scolds him. There’s a wild thumping in Yusuke’s chest, and when Akira leans in to grip Yusuke’s wrist, to pull them both into the would-be picture, the contact burns. 

He’s heard people say falling in love feels like melting. He supposes they weren’t wrong; at this point, the whole of Leblanc feels like a kiln.

“M-my-- isn’t it a bit warm in here, this evening?”

“Yeah.” Akira’s voice is low as he leans forward just slightly, close enough that Yusuke can feel the heat of his breath wash against his cheek. “It’s really hot.”

Akira’s eyes are dark, hooded by long lashes as he glances from Yusuke’s eyes to his lips. The moment seems to last forever as Akira gently rubs his thumb along Yusuke’s wrist, stoking fire in his veins. Yusuke’s heart aches.

“Yusuke…” Why does Akira care so much? Yusuke’s made the mistake of misplaced confidence in his understanding before. Is it too soon for him to be sure of this? “Do you want to?”

“Akira,” he breathes, and he feels Akira’s fingers twitch against his wrist. 

Yusuke’s heart  _ aches _ .

“Do  _ you _ want me to want to?”

“Kid, have you seen my -- “

For the second time that day everything stills in suspended animation. Sojiro, hand on the doorknob. Morgana, mid-trot at his feet. Yusuke, rigid in his barstool. And Akira, hand still grasped around Yusuke’s wrist, eyes wide and face aflame. 

“What the hell are you two doing?”

And then, smooth as anything, time starts again as Akira slides his hand up to grasp Yusuke’s. He gives it a tight squeeze, arm muscles flexing, and covers, “Arm wrestling.”

Sojiro stares dumbly for a moment, before sighing and rubbing the back of his head as Akira pulls away and rummages under the counter. “Ah, jeez.”

Yusuke suddenly feels ten degrees too cold and ten degrees too hot all at once. Isn’t this how people take ill?

“Cigarettes, right?” Akira calls, tossing Sojiro the box as Morgana makes his way up to a barstool.

Sojiro catches them easily. “Yeah. Don’t forget to lock up.” He spares them each one more look before turning back to the alleyway, muttering something about ‘kids these days.’

Morgana doesn’t say anything, also tilting his head quizzically at the both of them, and the silence that folds itself between them is suffocating. 

Finally, Akira speaks up.

“Uh, Yusuke-- about--”

But the moment’s gone, and Yusuke, feeling very overwhelmed and indeed just a little ill at all his social and emotional “progress” for the day, decides he needs to be gone, too.

Quickly, he gathers his things and takes the few strides his legs need to carry him to the door. 

“Thank you for the --” What, insight? Confusion? Lo-- “Coffee. Thank you for the coffee,” he blurts, calling over his shoulder as he lets the door swing shut behind him. “I’ll see you again!”

He doesn’t see Akira groan and bury his head against the countertop, leaving a pile of dirty dishes and a very confused Morgana behind him.

Outside, Yusuke takes all of three steps before he sinks to the ground, burying his head in his hands.

It’s too much. His heart aches. It’s not that he wants to leave Akira, but he doesn’t understand, he--

He needs help, he realizes with surprising clarity.

When Yusuke is lost, in need of assistance, unable to grasp some universal meaning which never seems to elude anyone else, any of it -- he turns to Akira for guidance. 

That’s impossible, now. How can he, with  _ this? _ It’s why he turned to Ann in the first place, but he fears he’s imposed on her kindness too much already, what with how she set them up today. 

So, Yusuke stills his pounding heart and decides to do the next most logical thing.

He pulls out his phone, and enlists the advice of everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, okay, slightly longer chapter but i'll add this one tonight too!


	4. Ryuji

“Ryuji, have you ever been in love?”

“Uh-- _what?”_

Ryuji blinks several times in rapid succession as the surrounding horde advances, bullets and debris raining upon them mercilessly and without respite -- until the head of the character directly in front of him explodes into tiny pixels.

“You see,” Yusuke continues, absently clicking the trigger of the gun he’s not even angling at their shared foes, “I believe I may be.”

“Dude.”

“In love.”

Ryuji groans and refocuses his attention on the machine in front of them, sliding another 100yen coin into the slot as he readies his rifle.

“You don’t need to clarify. Actually--” he narrows his eyes, taking down the enemies threatening dangerously to swarm Yusuke as he just. Stands there. Why was is even playing!? “Is this about Ann? Because dude--”

Yusuke makes a disgusted sound from the back of his throat and gestures towards the air. “Why does everyone always assume that?”

Despite Ryuji’s best efforts and absolutely none of his own, Yusuke’s character explodes pitifully into pixels and he politely returns his gun to its holster. He doesn’t have the coin to spare and he doesn’t expect Ryuji to pay his next round, so he continues on instead. “No, as a matter of fact, I believe I may be in love with Akira.”

“Uh-- _WHAT?_ ”

Blink. Boom. Tiny Pixels.

Ryuji whirls towards the boy next to him, mouth wide and eyes in danger of popping out of his skull.

“That expression is particularly offensive.” Yusuke comments with a disdainful sniff, raising his fingers to frame Ryuji between them. “You were much more a charming subject with your focus honed on the arcade console.”

“Dude-- what-- enough of that, _Akira_ ? Does Leader _know?_ ”

Yusuke sighs, crossing one hand under his elbow and raising the other to his chin in thought. He thinks of Akira’s laughter filtering through Leblanc’s lowlight, of a hand infuriatingly warm on his, of Akira’s lips moving to ask him a question and he doesn’t know why, why _why_ \--

“I am not sure.” Is what he finally says, “Through speaking with Ann, I had only just realized my own feelings the last time I saw him. I don’t know if she gave it away.”

Ryuji shrugs; it was possible she’d tipped off Akira, but he knows Ann. Girl loves to gossip but she’s also a bro. Or at least, as close as a bro can be to bein’ a bro without actually _being_ a bro. And a bros don’t spill about another bro’s crush.

(Although it did make sense why when Ryuji idly asked her a question about dating she’d tugged angrily at her pigtails and knocked him over the head without even the slightest explanation. Makoto was too busy with her grade point average for a boyfriend, and he figured Haru probably wanted some time after her crazy ex-fiance. That left Yusuke, who was even denser than _Ryuji_ with this shit. So if Ann was dealing with _this_ guy’s love life, it _had_ to be infuriating.)

But more important, why is this a problem? He’s seen the way Akira looks at Yusuke during battle in the Metaverse, the way he grins when Yusuke says something _especially_ weird and Yusuke-like, the way he heaps a couple extra spoonfuls of curry onto Yusuke’s plate at Leblanc -- which by the way is totally unfair when _Ryuji_ is his best friend, but he figures it makes sense if the guy has a crush on Yusuke. As his best bro, Ryuji’ll allow it.

But that’s the thing -- Ryuji is Akira’s best bro, and all the signs are there, but Akira’s never mentioned anything about it to him. So who was he to say Akira’d caught feelings too? Besides, bro code.

“Uh… maybe you should like. Talk to him about it. Or something?” Ryuji offers, one hundred and fifteen percent out of his comfort zone, but figuring he should make the effort if it might end in making his best bro happy. And if it didn’t, Akira wasn’t the kind of guy to hold it against their bizzaro-world artist friend anyway.  

“Yes, Ann and Boss both said the same. I suppose that would be the fastest way to ascertain the situation, but I...” Yusuke muses as he trails off into thought, an unsure expression clouding his normally sharp eyes.

“Ascer-what? Look,” Ryuji groans again, getting a little fed-up, “If it were me, and I ain’t sayin’ it would be because Akira’s my best bro, but if it were me and I couldn’t just talk to him about it I guess I’d like, you know… try to pick ‘im up.”

Immediately, Yusuke looks affronted. “I assure you, I have no misgivings about my strength, and besides I don’t see how lifting --”

“What? No!” Ryuji is starting to really feel for why Ann had been this close to tearing her hair out. “I meant, you know, be smooth. Charming. Give him somethin’ to want more of and woo him, or whatever. That’s what Mishima and I --” try to “--do when we’re cruisin’ for chicks.”

To be fair, he and Mishima (and Akira, at first, before whatever _this_ was started) have never actually _succeeded_ with this tactic, but damned if he’s gonna give up and he isn’t a tactician anyway. That’s Makoto’s job. Strategy isn’t his thing and actually that’s why he was _trying_ to play a simple shoot ‘em up arcade game in the first place, thank you very much.

“You do not have a car, and Akira is not a girl,” comes Yusuke’s obstinate reply. Ryuji stuffs his fists in his pocket in frustration as he leans against the frame of the console and levels his friend with a long, indignant look.

“Who cares? Does it really matter?” Yusuke’s eyes widen slightly, and Ryuji takes that as permission to continue, not that he would’ve asked anyway. “People like attention from people they like either way, yeah?”

He watches Yusuke bring a hand to his chin, brow creased in thought.

Yusuke, for his part, supposes Ryuji had a point. After all, wasn’t that what had tipped him off to the truth of his feelings in the first place? Wanting more from Akira, wanting his attention. But did he deserve that? Did _Akira_ want that in return? Did Akira even truly like him like--

“I don’t know, man, this isn’t really my strong point,” Ryuji finally admits with a grimace when Yusuke doesn’t answer. He scratches a hand at the base of his neck sheepishly. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation, like, at all, but he doesn’t want Yusuke feeling stuck about it, either. Eventually, though, Yusuke concedes.

“Mm, you’re right. Perhaps it would be better if I spoke with the girls,” Yusuke states with a nod, turning to gather his bag.

Ryuji agrees. “Yeah, that’d probably be-- hey wait, what’s _that_ supposed to mean!?”

 

* * *

 

By the time he leaves the arcade, the sun is setting over Shibuya’s shopping district. Yusuke slowly traces the path back to the train station, lost in thoughts that swirl with his Ryuji’s brusque words. Perhaps there’s some merit to them; he imagines Ryuji would know well what Akira likes. Mercifully, the crowds are dwindling, so he needn’t spare too much attention as he thinks in order to avoid running into anyone--

Until he does.

Until in fact, he runs directly into -- “Akira!”

“Yusuke?” Gray eyes widened by surprise look up at him curiously, the last light of day glinting off the glasses that frame them. For reasons unknown to Yusuke, Akira’s no longer in his school uniform and instead wears a black t-shirt layered with an open white collared shirt. The sleeves are rolled to reveal a smudge of dirt here, there, complementary to the single stray petal in his hair. He cuts quite the picture in the evening glow, and it leaves Yusuke wondering, _wanting_ to know more.

It leaves Yusuke thinking he’s beautiful.

_Woo him, or something_ , right? Yusuke hasn’t even the slightest idea how to begin going about that, but he imagines a compliment wouldn’t be completely off-base.

Without really thinking Yusuke smiles and raises his hand to pluck the petal from Akira’s fringe. He goes stock still beneath Yusuke’s touch, and Yusuke worries -- but he does his best to keep the waver from reaching his voice and the thoughts from confounding his words as he finishes what he started. “You look radiant today, Akira.”

Akira jolts, a huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he swats at Yusuke’s hand, as a pink that rivals the flower’s petal dusts his cheeks. This again -- what does it mean? Does he like the attention, or not? Yusuke isn’t sure, but he hopes, maybe…

“I’m on my way back from one of my part time jobs,” Akira says, lopsided smile playing at his lips as he regards Yusuke casually. “It’s at Rafflesia, the flower shop in the underground mall. You should stop by when I’m on shift sometime, I’ll give you a discount.”

Yusuke perks up at that. Akira is always offering him the kindest things, and expecting nothing in return. “That would be lovely. Flowers are always such fascinating subjects in a still life, as they are never still for long.”

Akira voice bubbles into laughter then, and oh, the sound makes Yusuke’s heart somersault in his chest. _Who’s charming who here, exactly?_ he thinks, with only the mildest of fond desperation.

“Yeah, I guess. Hey--” He nods down the street, towards the direction Yusuke had come from. “I was on my way to return something before I head back. Wanna walk with me?”

He nods, and it’s so easy to fall into quiet, comfortable chatter as they go that Yusuke wonders if Ryuji had it right after all. That they should just talk. There’s no need to question what’s between them when everything feels so _right_ as they swap remarks about everything, nothing, anything.

About halfway down the street, Akira bites his lip, tugs at his hair, as if he’s nervous despite the comforts of their conversation, and his pace slows. “Hey, Yusuke… about last night--”

Oh. They can talk about anything, yes. Anything but _that_.

“Akira!” he exclaims, voice slightly too high as he panics for an excuse. “I truly apologize, I just remembered-- somewhere-- something I had to do--” Almost robotically, he turns on his heel, strutting hastily back to the station as he leaves a bewildered Akira in his wake. “Until next time!”  

He’s relatively positive that’s not at all what Ryuji meant by making someone want for more, but neither is he ready to face the ache already needling into his heart if Akira doesn’t feel the way Yusuke is now becoming painfully aware he, in fact, does.

How could he possibly talk to Akira about it _now_?

At least, he’s not sure he can without some kind of plan.

A strategy, even.

He unlocks his phone, and taps on Makoto’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited but unbeta'd this time, we die like men etc. each chapter will be with a different thief! c: thank you for reading, once again!


	5. Makoto

“Makoto, have you ever experienced love?”

Makoto pauses for a fraction of a second, mechanical pencil hovering over the papers arranged neatly in front of her, before continuing right along.

“No. Now, if you save some money from your art supply budget and carry it over here for transportation --”

“Never?” comes his inquisitive reply. Makoto sighs and puts her pencil down, presumably because they aren’t getting anywhere on this little pet project without Yusuke’s express consent and input. It’s not exactly out of line for him to be stubborn about it, though. He does wonder if he’s being nosey to ask about her love life, but it was a bit nosey of her to suggest helping him put together a budget in the first place. Even if she means well he manages just fine, thank you.

A faint blush does begin to creep over Makoto’s cheeks as she clears her throat though, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I… had a crush, once. But that’s not the same thing.”

Yusuke blinks, surprised. “Is it not?”

Makoto laces her fingers and levels her gaze. “Well, typically people have crushes first, where they’re just excited to be near the other person. Then, through dating and feeling out their standing with that other person, those feelings may develop into love.”

A crush. Yusuke turns the word carefully over in his mind like handmade paper, feeling out its texture and potential. He’s well acquainted with his lack of skill and tact at understanding different kinds of love, having even mistaken siblings for lovers in the past. Yusuke knows he loves all his friends, and that Akira loves all of them in return. Yet that doesn’t mean Yusuke wants to _kiss_ any of them -- except, just perhaps, Akira himself. He wonders if that time on the lake, ecstatic to simply be with his guiding light yet waxing poetic of a love he in no way understood, could be considered a date. The thought makes something warm and giddy pool in his stomach. But could that be love?

Though he loves Akira in the broadest sense, undoubtedly, perhaps for now a ‘crush’ is a better way to describe the “thing” he has apparently developed for their Leader. And then, perhaps, if Akira too has a ‘crush’ --

Makoto’s only just returned to scribbling notes on the papers in front of her when he realizes the unspoken implications of her story. “Did the two of you not wind up dating?”

“Wh-what?” Her head snaps back up, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, before diverting her gaze wistfully away. “O-oh… no, not… exactly.” Yusuke wonders what that means, but he doesn’t press.

“And so your feelings remained a ‘crush,’” he states instead, more an observation than anything, but Makoto just gives a small smile as she corrects him.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I have a crush anymore. Ultimately, after talking it out with him, I realized we were better as friends. Besides, I’m too busy with my student council duties and all that happened with Sis, and he’s too busy with... everything.”

Yusuke considers this. A crush, _feelings_ may fade, may never develop into love, in the face of such uncertainty, such inaction. Though the feeling is new, foreign, Yusuke knows he doesn’t want that. It seems too painful to bear to him, somehow.

But what does Akira want?

_“Yusuke… Do you want to?”_

_“Akira, do_ you _want me to want to?”_

Perhaps there is one way to find out.

Yusuke’s pulled from his musing by a shuffle of papers in Makoto’s hands, clear in their precise movements that she’d like to return to the original reason for their meeting today.

Well, _her_ reason; for Yusuke it was a mere ruse by which to inquire her advice about love, but he supposes he can humor her at this point. In a moment, anyway. In the meantime he pulls out his phone and begins crafting a message.

“If there’s someone you might have a crush _on_ ,” Makoto adds, as if preparing a closing statement, as if to draw his attention back. “I think I might recommend talking to them.”

She hesitates for a moment, as if deciding how much to divulge, but at Yusuke’s thoughtful hum she nods with the decision that she’s said more than enough. “Did I answer your original question?”

He will have to thank Makoto for fitting him with even the smallest semblance of the plan now unfurling at his fingertips.

“Yes,” Yusuke replies simply as his finger hovers over the ‘send’ button. Makoto takes a sip of water to cool her thoughts. “I believe I should ask Akira on a date.”

Makoto chokes.

 

* * *

 

Akira is losing his goddamn mind.

He’s pacing the uneven floorboards of his attic room in Leblanc, has been for at least an hour now. He’s pretty sure Morgana would be chiding him about wearing a thief-sized hole straight through to the cafe if he wasn’t sound asleep at the foot of Akira’s bed.

Must be nice.

What would also be nice is making _any_ sense of his run in with Yusuke this afternoon. Yusuke’s always been tuned into Radio Weird, but Akira’s never had trouble adjusting the dial before now.

_“You look radiant today, Akira.”_

He thinks of the way his name sounds rolling off Yusuke’s tongue and feels the prickle of familiar heat crawling up the back of his neck.

_“You’re breathtaking, Akira.”_

He groans and scrubs his hands over his face, careless of his glasses, as if it were physically possible to rub the stain out of his cheeks.

This boy will be the death of him.

He has a million other things to focus on. School. Probation. Four official part time jobs and one not-so official part time job. Oh, also not dying, and yet.

All he can think about is Yusuke.

He bites his lip and plucks the phone out of his pocket, twirling it around once in his hand as he debates texting Ann. He still hasn’t told her exactly what happened last night (not in small part because _he’s_ not even exactly sure what happened last night, let alone today), but she’ll probably just tell Akira to talk to Yusuke, Just like she oh-so wisely suggested to begin with.

Talk to him. Right.

If only Yusuke would stay long enough to talk about it.

In was almost reassuring, in a way.

_“Akira, do you want me to want to?”_

Yusuke, if anything, is vocal almost to a fault about his opinions on just about everything, however inconsequential. He rarely does anything he doesn’t want to do, and if he has to he complains the whole way -- something about it always makes Akira smile in spite of himself.

It’s no secret how he feels about the Thieves. Yusuke would give anything for the team. And, Akira considers with a fresh flush of embarrassment, if their hangouts all summer and the gratitude with which Yusuke always, _always_ address him are anything to go by, Yusuke would give anything for _him_ , too.

Which could mean something, or it could mean nothing where _love_ is concerned.

But Yusuke wouldn’t give him that unless _he_ wanted to… right?

_Bzz! … Bzz! Bzz! Bzz!_

Akira blinks in surprise at the phone vibrating in his hand, as if simply staring at it will answer his every mind melting question. He’s pretty sure his heart does a gold medal winning backflip when he realizes that actually -- it just might.

**_Yusuke_ **

_Akira, are you perhaps free tomorrow evening?_

_I find myself faced with a quandry of which I see no clear solution._

_As always, I believe both art and you are essential in my heart reaching peace._

_Will you accompany me to the museum in Ueno tomorrow?_

Akira tries to fight the warmth rising to his cheeks as he wonders if Yusuke knows how that sounds. It sounds like breathtaking, like radiant, and nothing like obligation or _‘see you next time.’_

**_Akira_ **

_ >yeah, definitely _

He takes a breath, holds it, and fires off one more message before he can second guess himself.

**_Akira_ **

_ >if you want to, i mean _

The response buzzes in his hand almost immediately, and when Akira reads the message, heart thumping in his chest, his thoughts have never felt clearer.

**_Yusuke_ **

_Wonderful. I most certainly do._

_Then, it’s a date._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for your comments and support so far! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. Futaba is next! >:3c


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